


but this is getting good now

by Abagail_Snow



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abagail_Snow/pseuds/Abagail_Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three weeks. They had dated three weeks at the end of senior year, and he wanted to throw away his first semester of college with late night Skype sessions instead of parties, and stalking facebook photos in search of candidates for jealousy, all to be miserable with her. All for three weeks of dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but this is getting good now

Katniss shimmied across the thick branch to where it forked from the trunk to recline into a more comfortable position. Through the thin tree line she could make out the smoky haze of ghost like figures gathered around the dying bonfire. The party was still in full swing, and from the sound of it, not about to end any time soon. Katniss plied the lip of her red plastic cup until it cracked, letting her thumb slip between the slit until it reached the base, where a few last drops of keg beer had puddled. She flicked the sour liquid off the tip of her finger and sighed.

The Night of Tributes was an old legend that had become an excuse for teenagers all across Panem to get rowdy and drunk in a cemetery. A tribute to Ol'Haymitch Abernathy whose tombstone resided in their very own graveyard. 

A fire was built every year and then a bottle of white liquor ceremoniously poured on his resting place before the true festivities began. It made Katniss sick when she really thought about it. All of the plots were for children, most of them younger than her, and here they were celebrating.

Katniss never would have gone if it weren't for Gale. Now that he was a big shot in college he had nostalgia for all the people he used to hate in high school. Or at least he wanted to brag to all the people who finally had it worse than him, which in this town wasn't too hard a feat. It didn't take much perspective to realize that the "haves" didn't have much more than the "have nots" and now that Gale had seen this, he was much less resentful.

That was all great for Gale, but it now meant that during his brief summer break that Katniss was stuck going to parties like this when she wanted to hang out with him. And this was the last place she wanted to be. She ripped another strip from her plastic cup until the entire edge was shredded. With one last glare towards the party, she turned enough to hug the trunk so she could ease her way to the ground. She paused, however, when she heard the distinct trickling sound of a stream hitting the dirt.

Sure enough, when she looked down, she was met with the mop of hair of some drunk guy peeing on her tree. The rim of his red Solo cup clenched between his teeth while his hands were occupied. She rolled her eyes, tightening her grip to wait him out. Suddenly though the bark crumbled beneath her sneaker and she slipped a few inches before catching herself again. The commotion was enough to catch his attention and his cup went sputtering to his feet, leaving a damp trail down the front of his shirt.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," he said, hastily buttoning his pants. "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me -- I don't go around exposing myself to people, I swear." His blue eyes flashed to meet hers and recognition seemed to flicker before a new horror settled across his features. "Katniss -- hey," he sputtered.

She landed with a soft thud and brushed the remnants of tree bark from her shirt. "It's okay, Peeta, I didn't see anything," she said.

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards slightly like it always did whenever he was about to make an easy joke, but it quickly vanished and she was almost disappointed. "Well that's good," he said. "I'm really sorry, I didn't think to look up."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing to you," she said, bending over to pick up his fallen cup. "I made you spill your drink."

"It's probably for the best," he said then reached out to accept it from her before sloshing the remnants that had survived the fall onto the grass. "My brother brewed the stuff in his dorm closet. It tasted terrible."

"You're welcome then," she said.

The hint of a laugh shuddered in his chest, and he stared at her for a long moment with a sort of wistful reverie, as if he were working out the probability of her actually being real. He always had this way of making it hard to breath whenever she caught him looking at her. The intensity was too much for her, and she looked away.

"I never thought I'd see you at one of these things," he said.

"I was just leaving actually."

His eyes narrowed. "Alone?" She shrugged her affirmation. "Let me walk you," he insisted.

"It's not far," she said, brushing past him towards the direction of her house.

"Yeah," he said, falling into step beside her. "But there are spirits afoot, haven't you heard?"

She glared at him. "You don't actually believe in that, do you?"

"I don't know," he said. "I try not to tempt the fates either."

"Right, you just piss on their graves," she said wryly.

"That was a tree. And it wasn't even in the cemetery."

She quickened her pace but he met her stride for stride.

"Come on, even if there aren't ghosts around, there are still a lot of creeps -- drunk creeps at that, who have lost what little judgement they might have had."

That was something she couldn't argue with, but still... she paused and lowered her eyes to focus on the toe of her sneaker digging into the dirt. "I'll be fine," she said. "You should go back to the party, Peeta."

"I was ready to leave too," he admitted somewhat sheepishly. "Wasn't exactly my scene."

She bit her tongue. This was exactly Peeta's type of scene. He was the life of every party.

"Look, this doesn't have to be awkward," he said when she hesitated to respond.

"Why would it be awkward?"

He lifted both eyebrows and cocked his head. His hands were so deep in his pockets he had to hug his shoulders to his ears. He didn't want to say it, but he was going to. "We kind of dated, remember?"

Oh, right, that.

Katniss shrugged. "That doesn't have to make things weird."

"You came here with another guy."

"I came here with Gale," she said, biting back an incredulous laugh.

He nodded. "That was out of line, I'm sorry," he said, his face sobering. "Could I walk you home? Please?"

"Fine," she said, turning on her toes and marching briskly towards the main trail.

"You're not going to tell Gale you're leaving?"

"Why would I?"

His chuckle may as well have been " _Typical Katniss_ " in a sing-songing lilt. She rolled her eyes and took out her phone, tapping out a quick message. "Happy?"

Peeta sighed. "I'm not trying to fight with you," he said.

"Well don't try a little harder then," she countered.

He zipped his fingers across his lips and held his hands up in surrender. They walked in silence to the edge of the woods, following the song of the cicadas. It had been a dreadfully hot summer, the kind with humidity so thick, you choked on it with every breath. Katniss couldn't wait to leave this swamp land.

"How's your summer been?" Peeta asked as they stepped onto the main road.

"It's been fine."

"When are you leaving for school?" he went on, even though she'd made it clear she didn't feel like talking.

"Few weeks."

"You nervous?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why would I be?"

"I don't know. Leaving home for the first time. Moving some place new. Being surrounded by completely different people." He shrugged and said, "I'm nervous."

She glanced at him skeptically. "You have nothing to worry about."

"And why's that?"

"Because you could walk into a misanthrope convention and come out with a thousand friends," she said.

He grinned at her. "You'll always be my favorite though."

"You say that now. Then you end up living across the hall from a girl in boots and flannel and a permanent scowl, and you'll forget all about me."

"Yeah? Make sure you send pictures of all your pretty boy frat guys for approval then," he countered.

She shoved his shoulder. "I don't like pretty boy frat guys."

He fixed her with a look. "This is the poster face of the pretty boy frat guy."

"An old soul who's just looking for a good time?" she teased.

"Something like that."

His hand brushed against hers like he was trying to reach for it, and for a second she almost let him. For a second she almost wanted him to.

 _"It wouldn't be impossible,"_ he'd said while they were lying in the bed of her truck, pulled off the road at one of those scenic overlooks that "close" at nightfall. She had his suit jacket on and he wasn't wearing anything at all. " _We could try it -- the long distance thing, if you wanted to._ "

She hadn't said anything, only pressed her face against his neck to breathe in the spicy scent of cologne and sweat and metal from her truck. She broke up with him the next day.

Three weeks. They had dated three weeks at the end of senior year, and he wanted to throw away his first semester of college with late night Skype sessions instead of parties, and stalking facebook photos in search of candidates for jealousy, all to be miserable with her. All for three weeks of dating.

She had liked Peeta for a long time. A very long time. He was the boy she'd always noticed. The one she'd cast in her imagination when a partner was required. Who would she go out with? Who would she kiss? Who would take her to all the dances?

She neglected to tell him about his duties, of course. Why would she? They weren't friends. They ran with different crowds. Katniss with the country folk who were scattered an hour outside of town, and Peeta with the town kids who had luxuries like McDonalds and a grocery store. It wasn't exactly Romeo and Juliet caliber, just enough to keep them in separate orbits.

Until they weren't.

Until he was asking her to prom, and hey, maybe do you want to hang out sometime. A movie or something. And then like any hormonal teens, they were falling hard and fast. Hands slipping between legs under the table of a diner booth. Mouths crashing while she was pinned against her truck after school.

She bit her lip.

"Could I call you sometime?" Peeta said. His hands were in his pockets again and his muscles were flexed. Tense. "If I ever get homesick?"

"If you're homesick you shouldn't call me, I won't be there."

He pressed his lips together in a flat line, the corner quirking up momentarily in amusement. "You wouldn't have to be."

She reached into his pocket to take his hand, and he did that thing where he looped their joined arms around her shoulders, and she was caged against his chest, and it was impossible to walk, but they did it anyway. People who had only dated for three weeks weren't supposed to have  _things_  like that, she knew. But she and Peeta weren't the type of couple to only date for three weeks. They were a wrong-place-wrong-time sort.

If they had started earlier, they could have played out all of their scenarios. Drained away all the innocence and romance until the magic was gone and they were ready to move on. Or if they had met later -- in college or after. There would be less pressure, less uncertainty. Things would fizzle out and they'd be mature enough to handle it.

Instead he'd forever be her "what if." A saccharine memory of life being better than it ever was. With scenic forest backdrops and gorgeous sunsets that never happened. She'd compare all her future boyfriends to that boy she really liked in high school. She'd think about him when she was lonely and wonder what he was up to, but she'd never call him, because she didn't want to ruin the perfect memory.

She let her hand slip from his and stepped out of his embrace. Already she could see the end of her driveway. Only a few more yards. Only a couple more unsaid words.

"Well, goodnight, Katniss," Peeta said, recognizing the same thing. "It was nice to see you again."

"You too, Peeta." She stopped. Her hands were in her pockets now, mirroring his stance. She met his eye and he flashed that smile of his. Always so bashful and sincere, like he couldn't believe she'd ever let him smile at her.

She couldn't believe he'd ever want to smile at her. And what if a boy never smiled at her like this again. Never made her knees go weak in the same way. Was she being stupid for closing this door, when she'd never bothered to open it fully?

She took a step closer. Their toes were touching and she could smell the sour fruit punch spilled down his shirt. She looked up at him, gave him the smallest of nods, and held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her.

His mouth was on hers. Warm and familiar. Lips moving with the frenzy of a thousand kisses, as if to make up for the missing days in between their last one. He ended with one last, gentle kiss before releasing her.

"You should call me sometime," she said, touching her fingers to her swollen lips and backing away on wobbling knees.

 _What if?_  She thought. She was going to find out.

 


End file.
